


Action

by Kahvi



Category: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 11:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14056206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahvi/pseuds/Kahvi
Summary: Danny just wants to see some action. Nicholas doesn't.





	Action

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheLadyFebruary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyFebruary/gifts).



> A gift for the lovely bklynheart! With many apologies for its lateness.

You’d think, wouldn’t you, that the very last thing on Danny Butterman’s mind, what with everything that happened, would be wanting to see some action. But there it was. Not that he complained or ever said anything about it, not to Nicholas, not even to himself, but… country life was a bit boring, wasn’t it? When you got right down to it. He’d never thought of it that way before, which is to say, he’d been envious; had considered how much more fun it would be policing somewhere like London, or even Milton Keynes, where his uncle once let him come along on a business trip, and they had a football stadium (rather than a field) and a multiplex. But he’d never actually been bored, never truly wished he lived somewhere else, had a different sort of life, until… yeah, well, until Nicholas. Point of fact. 

It wasn’t that he fancied him. Which he did, true enough, but Danny didn’t want the sort of life Nicholas used to have because he fancied Nicholas; he wanted the sort of life Nicholas used to have because he’d had a taste of it. And fuck, if it wasn’t ever so addictive. The problem was, of course, that the reason Nicholas had stayed; had not gone back to that London life, was that he didn’t want it anymore. He wanted the sort of life that Danny had been living, for approximately 99.9% of his life.

And the problem with that was, of course, that the very thing Nicholas found appealing about Danny, probably the only thing if he were honest, was the thing Danny didn’t want to be anymore. 

These were the things he contemplated, to use a fancier word than it deserved, while lounging on the couch long after both Nicholas and the film they were watching had dozed off, the former, as had become usual, pressed up against Danny’s side. You’d think he would be drooling, all scrunched up with his mouth open like that, but there were never any wet spots on Danny’s shirts in the morning. 

More’s the pity.

* * *

He asked him about it in the morning, over eggs. Or rather, it wasn’t so much asking as trying to steer the conversation in a certain way and seeing what happened. Which went a little bit like this: 

“There anything you miss about London?” 

And Nicholas replied as he usually did, by sipping whatever was in that mug of his other than tea, except it came in a tea sort of bag, and shrugging. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason, really.” 

They finished their eggs, and Nicholas said he didn’t want any more toast, and Danny said he’d only asked because of it being Sunday, and he often liked an extra piece with jam and no butter (he’d gotten the jam in specially, it said ‘organic’ on the jar, which didn’t make any sense, because wasn’t all jam organic) with his not-tea (which Danny had also gotten specially, and kept in a box next to his own PG tips just for Sundays). 

Then, Danny said “D’you miss seeing films in the cinema?” 

“Not particularly,” Nicholas said, a little puzzled. “Truth be told, I never really had the time to go.”

“You mean you never took the time.” 

Nicholas smiled, and gave his hand a little pat. Then he looked down in surprise at what he was doing, and honestly, so did Danny, so they just sort of kept their hands there a while.

* * *

They made it a day trip for next Sunday - all the way up to Bristol and the multiplex there, where they were showing still showing Thor: Ragnarock _and_ Black Panther, as Nicholas eagerly pointed out on the way up. He’d clearly gone to a lot of thought in finding this, and they were nice thoughts all of them, but really Danny would much rather see something with coppers. Something set in a big city, like London or New York, with lots of car chases where no one ever got a flat, and bad guys so obviously evil that you could tell just looking at them. And absolutely no geese.

They settled on this Korean film that was on as part of a festival, much to Nicholas’s happy surprise. He started chatting all excitedly about temple gardens and pungent tea, though Danny didn’t think there would be much of either in the film. He’d just picked the one with the most promising-looking poster, and this one had no less than _four_ closeups of guns on it, which was the most out of any of them. 

You could tell how posh a place it was on account of how they sold fancy beers in the foyer, which you could even take in with you to watch the film. Sitting there in the plush seats, it occurred to Danny how they might as well be home, which made him realize he’d started thinking about his place as home for the both of them. Nicholas didn’t seem to have noticed anything, though half-way through he’d put his head on Danny’s shoulder, and when Danny let his arm rest on Nicholas’s armrest, he didn’t mind. 

They walked out in freezing April rain, not even Nicholas having remembered an umbrella, for once, and were almost in the car when Nicholas swore and nearly dropped his car keys. 

“I’m over the limit,” he said, when Danny asked him as they hurried back inside the multiplex. 

“What? You can’t be; you just had the one pint!” It wasn’t even a pint; even three of those fancy little bottles wouldn’t make up a pint and a half, and Nicholas had barely had two. 

“If I’d had a pint of those, I wouldn’t be standing upright. Belgian beers, Danny. They’re twelve percent.” 

“What? No way!” Danny’d had four. He barely noticed it.

“Yes, way.” 

“I like the way you said that.”

“It’s not funny. How are we going to get home, now? I won’t be legal for hours, and it’s nearly eleven.” 

“Been legal for years, haven’t you?” He couldn’t help it. Yes, they were wet and cold, and the cinema was shutting down for the night, but it was a bit of an adventure, wasn’t it? 

“Danny…” Nicholas wasn’t happy though. 

“It’s all right; I can drive us.”

“You had twice as much as me.” 

“Oh, right.” 

Nicholas huddled in the corner of the lobby, clutching his damp jacket closer to, though that probably only made him colder. “We’ll be late for work.”

“You’ll have to report yourself,” Danny said, without much hope for a laugh. Nicholas never joked about attendance. Sure enough, there was no answer. When the staff started giving them meaningful looks, Danny told himself it was now or never, and took a deep breath before asking: “Maybe we should spend the night?”

* * *

For all of Nicholas’s talk of saving money, and being careful to make everything from the teabags in the station kitchen to the markers they used to underline reports last as long as possible, he put up absolutely no resistance. Just fifteen minutes later, after Danny had looked it up on his phone, they were on their way to the nearest and cheapest hotel that didn’t look overrun by drug dealers or worse, business travellers. 

Danny waited under the relative dryness of a corner shop awning, watching Nicholas run in to see if there were rooms available. They wouldn’t let you do online booking on the same day. After a moment, Nicholas stuck his head back out and waved a hand, and Danny hurried in after him. It didn’t look quite like the pictures, but Nicholas dryly commented that they never did. They were both dripping down the carpets now, so Danny really only cared that there was a roof. Hopefully, some sort of heater. 

“If we get up at four,” Nicholas said, opening the door to his room with a card that had an ad for a curry house printed on the side, which Danny thought was rather neat, “we can just about make it in for nine.” 

“Four? I sometimes don’t go to bed until four,” Danny protested, really just for the fun of it. He didn’t mind getting up early, not with Nicholas. Funny how that went. 

“Then stay up if you like. But if you fall asleep on duty, I am writing you up.” 

“Uh.” Nicholas was holding the door, but not moving. Looking a bit annoyed. “Where am I sleeping?” 

“Here,” Nicholas said, then, like he just realized the reality of what he just said, looked away hurriedly and stepped inside. 

Ah, right. One of those two-bed things. Danny walked in.

Just the one bed. 

All right.

With a calm sort of determination, Danny walked over and sat next Nicholas, who was already on it. The bed, that was. It was big enough for two, but only barely, and they would have to be fairly good friends. 

“Nick,” he said. 

Nicholas rubbed his face with his fist. “You never call me that.”

“You say you don’t like it, but I think you do. Sometimes.” 

“I don’t think this is the only free room they had. You never drink too much to drive; you know what the limits are, you tell me off often enough. And you always bring an umbrella. ” 

It was a little bit like one of those quiet moments in a film, where things slowed down for a bit, and the heroes, protagonists, Nicholas called them, were holed up in a room somewhere waiting for the next bit to happen. Only it wasn’t happening. _Maybe it’s me_ , Danny thought, suddenly. _Maybe I’m the guy who makes the next bit happen._. And just like that, he knew what to do. 

“Danny-” Nicholas started, but Danny kissed him anyway. 

As it turns out, wasn't just about London. It wasn’t even about Milton Keynes, or car chases, or the number of guns you could reasonably expect to be able to get any use out of in just one mission. (Which is what jobs were often called, in films. Sometimes they were quests, or assignments.) You got a lot of action, in films, and in real life as a London police officer. But what you also got was this:

Little quiet moments in a bed, next to another person. Warm bodies, and the lack of having to say anything, because you knew it would always be all right. The bit that came before was all right, but what Danny would remember afterwards, for years afterwards, was the bit that came after. 

The bit where Nicholas fell asleep with his head on his chest, and didn’t say he love him, but his arm was lying awkwardly under Danny’s back, and would probably hurt in the morning, but that was all right. So you know. Everything was. 

Everything would be.


End file.
